The Witching Hour
by Hilary Weston
Summary: Runner up in the 2002 Halloween short story competition run by


Greetings! This little story was runner up in the B5 Halloween competition run by . The callenge was to write a story between 500 and 750 words. Thanks to Anthony F. for running the competition and for picking mine to be second. Enjoy.

Standard disclaimers. I don't own B5 or any of the characters.  
Spoilers for the end of season four.

All Hail to the Great Maker.  
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**The Witching Hour**

by

Hilary Weston

She looked into the pan and flinched as the viscous mixture glooped, flecking her face with sticky potion.

Was it supposed to do that?

She had followed the directions of the ancient parchment exactly but still had no idea if the ritual would work. She glanced at the clock. Midnight was coming; the witching hour of all hallows eve. She must begin the incantation now.

With a fine powder, she made a circle on the floor around the potion pot where it bubbled over four black candles. Then she knelt inside the circle and unrolled the parchment.

It was not long after the incident with Marcus that she had remembered the scroll. It was one of a number of items that her Mother had given her when she was young. She had been taught the language, outlawed on her planet for centuries; and the secrets of the sect, the sisterhood. She was supposed to be the keeper of the sacred rites for the next generation, and she had buried it along with the other dark parts of her past; until now.

It had taken all her resources to gather the ingredients and there had been some whispering about the more unusual items but no one dared to question her. She didn't care; she had to do this. She had to get Marcus back.

Reading the words she had sworn she would never utter, she dropped a lock of Marcus' hair into the potion. Then, with the sacrificial dagger of the sect, she slashed across her palm, letting her blood add to the mixture. She continued chanting, feeling the power grow as the seconds ticked away to midnight. The moment when the worlds of mortal and spirits collided and the walls dissolved.

The air in the room began to shimmer sending a tremor through her body. She chanted louder, determined to finish. Bright points of light swirled around her, then began to coalesce above the pan.  
It was working. The soul; the essence of Marcus was being brought back from that other place. All she needed to do when it was reconstructed was to send it to his body.

Simple.

A form was visible in the light. She strained her eyes, anxious to look upon him again. The features were familiar, but were not those of the lost Ranger.

"Kosh!"

She did not understand. What had gone wrong?  
_  
Leave him._ The voice echoed in her head.

"No."  
_  
The tapestry is fixed. You must not break the thread._

"I must."  
_  
Thief._

"What?"  
_  
The thief keeps nothing._

Barely had the echoes died from her mind than there was a rush of white hot wind. The essence of Kosh blazed from the room and the potion exploded out of the pot splattering the walls, ceiling, furniture and her.

Sitting among the wreckage of her witchcraft, Delenn realised the enormity of her miscalculation. Marcus was beyond her power and those of any of the Sisterhood of Valeria. More than that; because of her arrogant blundering with their ritual, the Vorlons had discovered them. For centuries, the skills and knowledge that they had stolen had been kept safe behind life pledging oaths. Now they had taken it back and all she had left were worthless words on a piece of paper.

She was rocking on the floor, silent sobs accompanying her tears, when John strode through the room.

"I swear, the Gaim are getting more like the Vorlons every day," He said as he began to change in the bedroom. Then he paused and sniffed the air.

"Is that toffee you're making for the Trick and Treaters?"

End

* * *

"True Magic is done with the mind and the spirit. Chants and potions are just a way to focus the magic, but they will not work without the magic of your spirit. Every wizard that you may encounter has a vast imagination, and a mind that can fly free. You still have that great gift. When you go home, you can use your imagination to see this world and us. Your mind is free from all bounds. You can travel anywhere, meet anyone and do anything, all within your mind. That is the first gateway to magic." - Nala, Wizard of_ T'Tenneb_.

* * *

Any comments to

Ranger Hilary.


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